


Running, Jumping, Falling

by flitterflutterfly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony Stark met Steve Rogers for the first time, it was pretty much lust at first sight, but he knew better than to pursue anything with Captain America. What he didn’t expect was for Steve to continuously seek out his company. In the face of the press, the Avengers team, and the usual supervillains, Tony finds himself approaching dangerous territory with his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love. That’s right, I fell in love with this beautiful piece of fanart done for c_im_bigbang, the Cap/Iron Reverse Bang. Even though this isn’t a fandom I’ve really written in before (though read in, yes, mhmm), I just had to write this. Written before the movie, so obviously an AU.
> 
> Art by [gadgetorious](http://gadgetorious.livejournal.com).
> 
> Thanks to sara_wolf and worthyapplepie for betaing.

When Tony Stark met Steve Rogers for the first time, it was pretty much lust at first sight. Of course, Fury had already warned him off corrupting SHIELD’s golden boy, so he let his attraction simmer without any hope of finding an actual outlet.

Tony didn’t expect the golden boy himself to begin to take interest in him, but there was no way he could deny it, not after the third time he found Steve standing kind of awkwardly outside of his SHIELD-based lab (smaller and louder than his lab in the basement of his New York mansion, but with the start of Avengers initiative Tony found that he inevitably spent about as much time in one of the cramped quarters of the SHIELD HQ as he did in his penthouse bedroom).

Tony sighed audibly, over the initial shock at seeing Captain America once again seemingly waiting for him. “Another meeting, Captain?”

Steve shook his head and straightened. “Not until the one at o’eight-hundred tomorrow,” he said.

“Does Fury even want the new camera pens he asked me to make?” Tony asked the door to his lab as he closed and locked it. “Eight in the morning, honestly…”

When he turned back, Steve’s lips were quirking, but too quickly his face slipped back into one of polite disinterest. Had Steve been anyone other than Captain America, bringer of peace and justice and good old family values, Tony would have suspected that he was trying to hide something.

“Is there a big bang out to destroy the world, and by that I mean New York of course, self-centered as this city is…” Tony frowned, having lost his original point.

“No monsters, no villains,” Steve assured.

Tony blinked. “So if there’s no meeting and no baddies, why are you here?”

“I’m kind of sick of doing laundry every couple of days,” Steve said, seemingly out of nowhere. He gestured to his current clothes, SHIELD cargo pants and a plain white tee. “But I’m not sure where the best place to get some new civvies is.”

 _And you’re asking me?_  Tony wanted to frown, but he kept it inside. “What kind of budget are we talking here?” The places Tony usually visited were… well a bit on the pricey side. “Actually, don’t answer that, I already know.” He had, after all, hacked into the SHIELD records the minute after he’d heard of the reemergence of Captain America.

Steve’s mouth was definitely twitching now. “So?”

“There’s a mall nearby,” Tony said finally. “It’ll have what you need, more than what you need but that’s the danger of shopping in malls.” He patted his pockets, wondering if he had paper to scratch some directions on. “You’ll have to walk to the nearest subway station, but from there it’s a pretty direct transit route-”

“Can you show me?” Steve asked.

“Show you?” Tony did frown then. “To the sub?”

Steve shook his head. “To the mall.”

Tony opened his mouth to refuse, to mention the amount of work he had to do, or possibly just to ask why he would spend more time in his teammate’s company than he already had to, but Steve was stepping forward and, with a hand to his shoulder, steering Tony down the hall. And Tony gave up. “Why not?”

Steve’s smile was potent and by the time Tony found himself on the transit (and why hadn’t they had Happy drive them?) he was smiling back.

O~o~O

It was a Monday, usually Tony’s least favorite day, when he first laid eyes upon Steve. Tony was heading up to Fury’s office, the schematics for an upgraded jet under one arm, when he heard the SHIELD director’s voice from down a side hall.

Curious, okay _nosy_ , Tony had turned on his heels and crept off in the new direction.

“If you are in need of more space, Captain,” Fury was saying, “there are other quarters we can put you in.”

“No need, sir,” a softer male voice said clearly. “It’s not like I have much stuff.”

Tony put the dots together with a sort of rapid fascination. He’d been informed of Captain America’s recovery. Of course he had, it was Stark Industries that had funded the search operation after all, but Fury had told him under no uncertain circumstances that he was not to try to engage the once-frozen superhero until Fury said he was good and ready.

 _Well, Fury,_  Tony thought,  _I was just walking by, wasn’t I? No harm intended._

And with that, Tony lengthened his stride, cleared his face into a confident mask of indifference, and turned the corner.

Captain America’s back was turned to him, which allowed Tony to fully appreciate the wide arch of his shoulders, the tight control of the muscles that his tight tee left  to no imagination, and the curve of his ass under khaki pants.

Then Fury sighed low and the captain turned and Tony got an eyeful of bright blue eyes and white teeth.

“Fury,” Tony greeted, forcing his eyes away from the tall, blonde, and handsome. “I brought the designs you asked for, but you weren’t in your office.”

Judging by Fury’s one-eyed glare, the director wasn’t fooled. “Steve,” he said instead of replying to Tony’s careful barb, “this is Tony Stark.”

“Stark,” the captain, Steve, repeated. His eyes held a strange sort of glint for a moment, before he seemed to shake himself of it. “Steve Rogers, nice to meet you.”

Tony glanced down at the held out hand and then reached forward. Steve had a strong grip, but not crushing like Thor’s had been. His palm was warm and dry and Tony immediately felt the effects of the touch tingling down his spine.

Fury shifted and Tony glanced over, reading in the man’s posture a reminder.

“ _I do not want you trying to take advantage of the captain’s confusion_ ,” Fury had told him barely the week prior. “ _The man is lost and hurting, he doesn’t need you on top of that._ ”

“ _Hey now!_ ” Tony had replied. “ _What’s that supposed to mean?_ ”

“ _I know all about your proclivities,_ ” Fury had said. “ _Keep to yourself, Stark. If all goes well, you’ll be working with the captain._ ”

Tony had sighed then and agreed, “ _No drama in the workplace; I can behave._ ”

That was before he’d seen that Captain America was easily the most beautiful man he’d ever shaken hands with.

Control, right. Tony stepped back and cleared his throat. “I’ll just leave the papers with your assistant, shall I?” he said. “It was my pleasure to finally put a face to a name, Captain.”

Steve frowned and glanced at Fury, but Tony retreated before either of them could say anything.

O~o~O

At the mall, Tony found himself relieved that he didn’t end up playing the reluctant husband to a wife’s spending spree. Steve was efficient and direct in his shopping, heading directly to racks of clothes that seemed to appeal to him and even then only choosing one or two things to try on.

By the time Tony’s stomach began to make its hunger known, he was carrying one medium-sized bag (a blue button down that had brought out Steve’s eyes like no other color and a couple pairs of nice jeans) and Steve had several larger bags in hand (new shoes, a couple sets of nicer clothes, a few more nicer t-shirts, and some workout clothes).

“I’m a little hungry,” Steve brought up as they exited the last store.

Tony nodded in relief. “There’s a food court, if you want?”

They headed to the mall’s central eating area. Tony had Steve grab them a table while he ordered them both good, old-fashioned American Chinese. As he was paying, he flashed back to Steve’s awkward fumble with the debit card Agent Coulson had apparently presented him with on the second day after he’d waken up.

Tony navigated the crowd easily and set down the steaming plate of faux-noodles and orange chicken in front of Steve. He stirred his own fried rice around before cracking the splintering wooden chopsticks and digging in.

“That was really good,” Steve said after several minutes, both of them nearly done with their food.

“Welcome to the wonder of hormone-ridden pretend chicken,” Tony shrugged, but something in him was pleased that the captain had liked it.

“Yeah…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he looked around. Tony noticed how his eyes lingered on the large screen hanging from the ceiling, and then moved to the spinning mobile above the clear elevators.

“This the first time you’ve been to the mall since,” Tony stopped and waited expectantly.

Steve turned his blue eyes back to Tony. “First time I’ve been outside HQ since the first day,” he said after a moment.

“Really?” Tony blinked and suddenly Steve’s constant looking over his shoulders as they’d left SHIELD made much more sense. “And why would that be?”

Steve shrugged. “Director Fury didn’t want me to freak out from the changes,” he murmured and there was a trace of bitterness in his tone and  _woah_ , Tony hadn’t really expected  _that_ from America’s golden boy.

“You telling me that they haven’t even taken you to your hometown?” Tony asked, because if it were him that’d probably be the first place he’d ask to go.

Well no, Tony backtracked, he actually wouldn’t. But he wasn’t Steve and that had to make some difference in the background department.

Steve’s eyes darkened slightly. “No.”

“What have they told you?” Tony was suddenly suspicious, wondering if Steve even understood how much the world had changed.

“Not much,” Steve admitted.

Tony took in a deep breath, angry at Fury’s manhandling. Steve wasn’t a kid, he was a grown man who’d faced Nazis… he could handle learning the true nature of the world he now lived in. “Don’t worry,” Tony told him firmly. “That will change.”

And it would, Tony vowed. It was practically criminal to keep Steve in the white walls of the SHIELD HQ like he was something to be ashamed of. And who better to introduce Steve to the wonders of modern technology than Tony Stark?

O~o~O

The first thing Tony did was to ask Pepper where the best tourist spots of NYC were (and not just the usual ones, either, because anyone could go to the top of the Empire State building, but Pepper would know what was really exciting). She gave him the list right away, too used to his antics to even question his motives.

So yeah, Tony figured that the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty were too boring, but he took Steve onto a cruise that included distant views of both. Steve seemed to appreciate an overall look at how the city had changed and, so, the next time they had free time, Tony led him through Grand Central Terminal and laughed at Steve’s wide-eyed amazement.

Their exploration of Rockefeller Center was interrupted by a giant lobster thing terrorizing the ice rink. Still, after SHIELD agents had cleared away the remains of the crustacean, Captain America and Iron Man got a free tour of the Radio City Music Hall so it all worked out in the end.

Steve ended up dragging Tony to the New York Public Library after a couple hours spent cooing over sea lions at the aquarium. There was a film playing in one of the movie rooms on 9/11 and Tony watched as Steve slowly grew more somber.

The visit to the site of the twin towers was done in silence. Afterwards, Tony gave Steve a condensed version of modern U.S. history from the time he crashed to the present. Steve didn’t come knocking on Tony’s door for another week.

When he did, Tony took him to the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art and got a breathtaking smile. If Steve ended up spending the whole day going from one piece of art to the next, well Tony couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Tony ended up dragging Steve to a movie whenever they got the chance, because after the first Steve had gotten hooked on the colorful images flashing across the screen in a smooth transition of sound and light.

The trip to Brooklyn was less cheerful. Steve seemed to wander across streets with both the walk of someone familiar with the area and the face of someone completely new. Afterwards, he thanked Tony like he’d done for every trip and Tony hadn’t been able to do anything but nod.

Still, despite Fury’s constant glaring and the rapid decrease in Tony’s already minimal free time, he couldn’t regret showing Steve modern New York City.

O~o~O

The whole Avengers team ended up going to see the premiere of the latest  _Die Hard_ movie together. Well, the Avengers and their plus one, Agent Coulson, who was sent by Fury to babysit them.

Tony resolved to ignore the agent, which was pretty easy with Hawkeye engaging the man in a lively debate about whether the fourth was a good continuation of the first Die Hard, or if it should be counted as a completely different series.

Steve was practically bouncing in his seat next to Tony. When Tony had shown him the first  _Die Hard_  he’d been immediately sympathetic and respectful of John McClane and demanded to watch the next three immediately.

Unlike most fans, Steve hadn’t scoffed as the second movie and he’d laughed his way through many of the scenes of the third. After the fourth, he’d turned to Tony and asked if McClane had any meta abilities, but he’d been the one to demand that they all go see the fifth and so Tony had badgered his way into getting premiere tickets.

The title sequence opened up just as Thor was loudly telling Natasha that Jane was a huge fan of Detective McClane. Black Widow shushed him quickly. On her other side, Bruce shook his head and sighed, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

The movie was well made, Tony could admit even though he personally was a Die Hard traditionalist. Despite Thor shouting at the Russian terrorists on screen and Natasha scoffing endlessly, Tony found himself smiling as the ending credits rolled on screen.

Then Steve leaned over and brought his mouth to Tony’s ear. “That was great Tony, thanks.”

Tony looked over, so sure he could see  _something_  in Steve’s eyes as the captain pulled back slightly. The overhead lights clicked on and the moment was lost.

But not before Tony’s breath caught in his throat and his arc reactor, an obvious blue glow behind his black shirt, flickered softly to match the quickening of his heartbeat.

O~o~O

The aerospace section of the Smithsonian was one of Tony’s personal favorite museums to visit. He figured it would help drive the advancement in technology home for Steve and so he’d flown his private jet to one of the DC-based SHIELD hangers and booked them a nice hotel for the weekend.

Like he’d suspected, Steve smiled his way through their tour of the museum, pulling Tony this way and that to look from jet plane to rocket ship.

“Doesn’t it just amaze you,” Steve asked later over dinner. “That we’ve really been to the moon?”

Tony shrugged. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind, and all that.”

“You know,” Steve smiled, sipping his coke. “Armstrong was actually supposed to say ‘one small step for  _a_  man’. He messed up his line.” At Tony’s incredulous look, it was Steve’s turn to shrug. “I wiki-ed it.”

Tony sat back, letting himself look at Steve anew. “You’ve really embraced modern tech, huh?”

“Well,” Steve said. “It’s been months. I figured the cultural shock has worn off a bit by now.” He frowned and looked away. “I’ll probably never be comfortable with some things, but Dr. Hanson said that was normal.”

“Dr. Hanson?” Tony asked.

“My psychologist,” Steve told him. “She’s been working with me from the beginning, but I think I might have taken years to learn all that I have with you if she had her way.”

“More like Fury’s way,” Tony muttered under his breath. Then he paused and let what Steve had been saying really sink in.

And yeah, maybe he’d been a bit willfully blind to it. It wasn’t like Thor, who’d come from such a completely different world that Earth would forever be strange. Steve wasn’t shocked by cars or guns or planes… just by how much they’ve improved. Tony couldn’t expect to babysit the captain through navigating New York’s subway his whole life.

Hell, SHIELD could probably drop Steve in the middle of Chicago and he’d find his way around well enough. He wasn’t an idiot and he’d learned to keep his ignorance at a minimum.

Tony looked down at his plate as the sinking sensation in his stomach registered. “Guess you don’t really need me anymore, huh?”

“What?” Steve sounded a bit shocked. “What do you mean?”

“That was the reason you started seeking me out, right?” Tony met Steve’s gaze squarely. “Because you were confused and you wanted someone who wouldn’t reject to showing you outside. You knew Fury wouldn’t do it and all the SHIELD agents would listen to him, but I rarely listen to him so I was your best bet.”

“Tony,” Steve’s tone was disapproving all of sudden, still Tony continued.

“But you can navigate the world yourself now. Hell, you didn’t need my help anymore the minute you finally figured out how the internet worked. And even if you did want to go anywhere, Natasha, Clint, Bruce… any of them would be happy to go with you,” Tony said. Then a thought came to him. “Except I do have the most money. Is that what this is? I can fly us to DC,” he waved an arm around, “and Dr. Banner certainly couldn’t do that.”

“It’s not about your money, Tony,” Steve said, and there was no mistaking the disapproval now. “It was  _never_  about your money.”

“Then what?” Tony asked, a little desperate to know. “Why seek me out?”

“Tony,” Steve looked embarrassed, a shine in his eyes. Tony braced himself. “I don’t… you look so much like…”

No amount of bracing could have prepared Tony for the realization of what Steve was trying to say. “My father,” he bit out. “I look like my father.”

Steve flinched. “Howard was my friend,” he explained. “I had no one, at the beginning. Everyone I knew is dead or so old that I no longer even recognize them.”

“So I was a replacement,” Tony’s hand clenched into fists and he stood. “Well guess what, Captain? I’m not my father.”

“Sit, Tony, please,” Steve begged softly. Having never heard that tone from him before, Tony did. “It started out that way, maybe– but Tony by the time I asked you to go to the mall with me… it wasn’t because of Howard, okay? I promise you.”

“What then?” Tony asked, throat dry. “Why ask?”

“Because,  _dammit_ , Tony do you even know?” Steve pulled back.

Tony blinked, having never heard the captain curse before, even a softer one such as ‘damn’ seemed so off coming from his lips. “No, I don’t know.”

“They, all of them,” Steve waved his hand as if that could somehow explain who he was talking about. “They’re in awe of you. I was… curious. Who was Tony Stark to make the director fume and his agents gossip excitedly? Every bit of technology I was introduced to first was from Stark Industries and they all seemed to have your touch and I just… wanted to know the man under the suit.”

“Well, you have,” Tony said softly. “And?”

“And I like him,” Steve said. “A lot. I want to be his friend. So I used you a bit and I’m sorry for that. I let you think that I was lost, and yeah I was but after the first couple of times Clint offered to take me around instead so that you could continue to work in your lab and I just… I didn’t want to let you go.”

Tony cleared his throat because otherwise he thought he might embarrass himself suddenly. “You are my friend, Steve. And I’m honored to be yours.”

“I’m the honored one,” Steve disagreed. “You… you’re amazing, Tony.”

Him? Tony wanted to scoff, shake his head, do something. Captain America was telling him he was amazing… playboy philanthropist, alcoholic with heart problems, insomniac Tony Stark. Amazing?

But Steve was looked at him with clear blue eyes, his face an open book, and all Tony could do was nod and smile. “You too.”

Steve grinned suddenly and opened his mouth to say something else, but just then their waitress came back with the check and Steve busied himself with paying their bill (because he’d made Tony promise not to pay for everything and so Tony had made sure to direct them to the slightly less expensive, but still famously delicious restaurants on the nights that were Steve’s turn).

Tony firmly told his beating heart to calm down, because it was no longer about Fury warning him away, but about the friendship he’d built with Steve. And for that, not for SHIELD or the Avengers or anyone else, that he would never act on his rapidly growing feelings.

It wasn’t the first time Tony had lied to himself.

O~o~O

He was spiraling out of control. Tony paused as the thought hit him, halfway out of his Iron Man suit and aching for a hot shower.

But it was true, Tony realized. It was Pepper all over again, except worse, infinitely worse. With Pepper, he’d hit on her from the start and when she continued to evade his flirtatious ways, he’d come to slowly appreciate her for the wonderful woman she was.

Steve, on the other hand, had become more than just a comrade. He’d become a friend, Tony’s best friend if he was being honest with himself. And that’s where the problem really hit, because there were so few barriers left. They’d practically lived in each others pockets since that first trip to the mall.

And Tony hadn’t minded. He’d reveled in the chance to show Steve the modern world. He’d taken him on a tour of Stark Industries, including Tony’s own personal labs, for fuck’s sake! Only Pepper had ever seen those labs, and only because she practically ran his company for him.

Tony rubbed his temples. This had to stop, he decided. Steve had gotten too close far too quickly. He had to back away, give them both some space.

Yeah, Tony nodded. No more late night trips to Central Park or Friday movies. Kick villain ass, clap each other’s backs like normal teammates, and then go their separate ways.

Okay.

His determination grew as he stumbled downstairs after his shower, dressed in loose sweatpants and bare-chested, to get a glass of scotch and found Steve sitting on his couch, watching Desperate Housewives on the T.V.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.

Steve looked back over his shoulder, eyes moving down from Tony’s face to his arc reactor, and then back up. “Waiting for you.”

Tony stepped around the couch. “Why?” he glanced at the television and frowned. “And why are you watching this shit?”

Steve shrugged and turned it off with a quick click of the remote. “I was thinking about getting pizza.”

“Steve,” Tony said, his mind urging him to remember his promise. “We need to talk.”

Steve looked at him. “Sure, what about?”

Tony took a steadying breath. “Us.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and Tony flushed. “Us?”

“I don’t think we can keep doing this,” Tony forged on. “We’re not… my rate of production has gone down sixty percent,” and despite the fact that Tony didn’t really care, it was a good excuse.

“We’re teammates,” Steve said. “You joined the Avengers Initiative, you can’t expect to continue to have time to do the same amount of work as you did before.”

“That’s just the thing,” Tony told him. “Do you see us hanging out with the rest of our team more than once a week? We see each other  _every day_ , okay? Even when there’s no villains terrorizing the town. Hell, Steve, you watch me work in the lab. How the hell is that normal friend behavior?”

“What are you trying to say, Tony?” Steve asked, standing now.

I’m saying this is dangerous, Tony said to himself. This has become too dangerous for me. But instead, he snapped, “what makes you think I want to spend so much time in your company? What gives you the right to intrude upon my life?”

Steve reeled back as if hit. “I didn’t…”

Tony deflated suddenly, because there was no relief in the cold hurt that seemed to spread over Steve’s face. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Steve stepped closer. “Do what?”

Tony glanced up. “This, us… it’s too much, Steve. I can’t handle it.”

“You can handle a lot more than you think,” Steve told him, a hesitant touch to his arm.

No, Tony protested mentally. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me,” Steve said. “Tell me, Tony.”

Tony hesitated, having no idea what he was going to do until he did it.

Steve’s lips were cool against his own. Tony pressed against them, molding himself against Steve for a brief perfect second.

Steve’s shocked breath huffed against him as he pulled back and then Tony couldn’t meet his eyes. Welcome to the twenty-first century, he thought.

Without another word, certain his point had made its way home, Tony turned on his heels. Steve’s hand on his shoulder slipped away like the end to a chapter and Tony found himself wishing he could turn back to the beginning, rewind to the start.

He thought he heard Steve say his name as he escaped to the stairs, but even if he had, Tony was already gone.

O~o~O

“Tony,” Steve said from the doorway to Tony’s lab.

“JARVIS,” Tony murmured under his breath. He’d decided not to work in the SHIELD lab just for this exact reason, and there his AI goes letting the captain in anyways.

Tony knew what he looked like. He hadn’t slept since his idiotic move the night before and it was already, he checked the time, huh six in the evening the next day. Empty beer bottles and one notably large keg were scattered around his lab. Tony had sobered up from that spree, but his head was still banging in time with the hammering he was doing on an inconsequential piece of technology that would have been a car engine, had he not mangled it up halfway through his drunken tirade.

But hey, how much worse could Steve’s opinion of his get anyways? He’d already fucked up their friendship.

“Tony,” Steve said again, suddenly much closer.

Tony looked up, squinting as the overhead light above Steve attempted to blind him. He couldn’t make out he expression on Steve’s face, so he turned back to his not-engine.

“Tony, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Steve tried once more.

With a quick breath, Tony stood, swaying as the blood rushed to his legs and the world greyed. He regained control of himself to notice that Steve had a hand on his arm and was holding him steady. “What?” Tony snapped.

Steve pulled him closer, holding him against his chest. Tony struggled to get away, vision blurring and coming back like a strobe light. “Tell me, please,” Steve whispered into his ear.

Tony stopped struggling at once and looked into Steve’s blue eyes, the couple of inches of difference in their heights now a mountain between them. “So I can embarrass myself further?” he sniped, bitter and tired.

“No,” Steve said immediately.

Blinking hard, Tony tried to turn his head away from that piercing gaze, only to have Steve hold him by the back of the neck. Steve seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but even if Tony could work out all that was going on in his head at the moment, he wasn’t sure he would say it.

Steve sighed and then, without warning, swooped closer. Tony could suddenly make out each of his eyelashes individually, blond and nearly see-through in the light, before dry lips were on his own.

Tony’s eyes closed before he catalogued what exactly was going on. Steve pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead on Tony’s. “Does this help?”

With a dry bark of a laugh, Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said.

He’d be surprised, shocked, later, but at the moment all he knew was that the pounding of his head was receding into something warmer and he felt  _happy_.

O~o~O

Tony came down from his bedroom dressed in his nicest pair of designer jeans and a black button-down long sleeve. Steve waited by his couch, looking out the large window to the city below. He was dressed just as nicely, though perhaps a little less expensively.

The blue of his shirt looked just as good as it had when Tony had first seen Steve try it on, but this time when Steve’s eyes turned to him, he allowed his appreciation to show on his face.

Steve blushed mildly, the barest of pink coming onto his cheeks. “Ready?”

“Let’s blow this joint,” Tony agreed. At Steve’s confusion, he shrugged. “Come on, Happy’s awaiting.”

Happy drove them off in front of the Winter Garden Theatre. Tony eyed the long line stretching from the box office and contemplated getting tickets to see Mamma Mia next week.

Steve’s hand rested lightly on the base of his back and Tony let him steer them both towards the small diner they were headed.

As they ordered appetizers, Steve drew Tony into conversation of his latest invention. Tony talked his way all the way through their first course, stopping himself as he realized that their waiter was placing their entrees on the table.

Embarrassed now, Tony asked Steve about the painting he knew the man had been working on. Steve smiled as if he knew exactly what Tony was thinking, but he began to talk anyways.

As Steve became more and more animated, going through brush strokes with his fork, Tony found himself relaxing back into his chair. This was okay, it was good even. Normal; a conversation so similar to any they’d had before.

Nothing had changed.

Tony paused at that thought, suddenly uncomfortable. Wasn’t that a little strange? Shouldn’t there be more… something? He’d never really done the dating thing before. Well, that wasn’t quite true, he’d taken Pepper to a number of high class restaurants, but this was different. This was Steve. The golden boy, America’s first avenger, poster child of patriotism.

“Tony,” Steve said, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

Tony looked down, feeling Steve slip into his own over the table. He licked his lips and returned Steve’s smile. “I think…” he coughed, “yeah, I’m great.”


	2. Jumping

**IS TONY STARK FINALLY SETTLING DOWN?**

_Late last night, our reporters spotted Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and metal-suited vigilante Iron Man, escorting, or possibly being escorted, by a tall blonde man into Masa – an exclusive restaurant in the western side of Midtown known to be booked months in advance for its unique omakase. The other patrons and staff of Masa refused to comment, but we did manage to catch sight of the couple leaving several hours later (see exclusive photos on page three)._

_This is not the first time that Mr. Stark has been seen with this mysterious blond gentleman. They have been spotted together in various small coffee shops around the city and once leaving Stark Industries, both dressed casually and smiling._

_The question most readers will be asking, is this a sign of the reputed playboy settling down? Has this unknown man charmed the heart of the most eligible bachelor in New York? If so, are we happy that Mr. Stark is finally off the market?_

_By the poll we sent out last week, the vast majority expects Tony Stark’s new taken status to only increase his popularity, and that of his possible boyfriend. Spending the days inventing the latest gadget, the evenings saving the city, and the nights in romance seems like the kind of life anyone would want._

_So we say to Mr. Stark, good luck! If he’s a keeper, then know that New York is supporting you._

O~o~O

Tony was going through his emails when Pepper came into the kitchen, the morning’s newspaper in her hand.

“The board is happy,” she announced as she set the paper down next to him. “They think stability will do you, and SI some good.”

“Yeah?” Tony glanced at the headline of the paper, but he knew what it said. He’d already read it.

“Tony,” Pepper said, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Don’t fuck this one up, okay? Captain America is not just another boy for you to use and toss aside.”

And yeah, of course Pepper knew. Still… “No, he’s not,” Tony agreed. He met her gaze squarely.

Pepper’s green eyes flickered briefly and then she nodded. “I have your itinerary for the day sent to your phone. Please remember that your four o’clock meeting is mandatory.”

Tony watched her leave with a fond smile, but, he realized, just that. No fantasy, no not-so-secret desires.

It was, in many ways, a relief.

Tony turned back to his email. He sorted through the SHIELD messages first, then the company updates, and then finally to the large increase of fan and hate mail.

Most, understandably, were replies to the article now lying next to him.

There were a couple of different statements Tony expected to find in his inbox when he’d first read the newspaper that morning. And he found them: messages of disbelief, of laughs for pulling another one on the press, and of general commentary about his life. There were, just as there always were when a news article came out about his latest ‘catch’ being male, a number of instructions to burn in hell, or just burn.

What Tony didn’t expect were the emails of congratulations. Well, sure, sarcastic ones maybe, and perhaps a couple of people who thought he should be settling down. But those were more like,  _about time_ , not  _I’m so happy for you, Mr. Stark. I hope you two have a long and happy life together._

It was, he suspected, all the article’s fault. Where as the press usually painted him as the philanthropist playboy he was (or used to be, before Steve), this paper seemed to capture whatever it was that  _had_  changed.

Tony groaned as he looked back at the picture the reporter had managed to capture of him and Steve leaving Masa. It was grainy enough that the usual public wouldn’t be able to make out Steve’s face.

But there was no way the team wouldn’t know immediately.

O~o~O

Halfway into Tony’s meeting with Fury (discussing blueprints for a new base off the cost of California and the possible technology behind teleportation devices), Fury gave Tony a one-eyed look so reminiscent of Howard that Tony stopped talking immediately.

“Stark,” Fury began. “I don’t suppose you read the paper this morning?”

Tony forced himself to keep a relaxed pose. “Come now, surely you’ve known since it all began?” Because there really was no way that Fury hadn’t been following him and Steve’s dates, even before they were dates, from the beginning.

Fury’s eyebrow twitched. “What exactly are you playing at?”

“Nothing,” Tony told him firmly. “This isn’t a problem is it? It’s not obvious who’s in the photo, we haven’t interfered with Avengers business yet… there is nothing for you to complain about.”

“You sure about that?” Fury asked, a bit of sarcastic drawl in his tone.

“I should go find the team,” Tony stood, unwillingly to continue where he knew this conversation was going.

Fury scowled at him. “Third break room,” he said finally and waved Tony out.

Tony went with an audible sigh of relief, just because it would ignite Fury further, and went off to find the rest of the Avengers. They were indeed in the break room, all of them sprawled on couches and chairs. Ripped envelopes were strewn about the room and Clint was reading something aloud.

“- _and I don’t care, honestly,_ ” Hawkeye said in an oddly high-pitched voice. “ _Just please, make sure you don’t break him. You know how long it took me to get all of the metal bits out of my gutter!_ ”

Bruce and Thor were both laughing Clint closed the paper, Steve chuckling besides them. Natasha snorted into her tea, muttering something about, “your gutters, what about my hair?”

“What’s this?” Tony asked in the doorway.

“Tony!” Steve cried.

“We were just going through your fanmail,” Clint said, waving his hand at the letters. “Listen to this:  _Mister Iron Man, my mommy and daddy said that if two people love each other very much they get married and have babies. Anna (my big sis), told me you have love with a mister blondy. Is mister blondy Capt’n America? Can I come to the wedding, mister Iron Man? I’ll be really polite and bring you a present, too!_ ”

Tony gaped. “How the hell-”

“Little Billy isn’t the only one,” Natasha said.

“We made a count,” Bruce told him. He pointed at two equal sized stacks. “Those are the ones who think that your mysterious date is either Clint or myself.”

Tony frowned and stepped farther into the room, eying the larger three stacks next to the Hawkeye and Hulk ones. “And those?”

“Hate mail,” Natasha pointed to one of them.

“The Midgardians were very blunt in their manner of your demise!” Thor proclaimed, still smiling.

“We figured we have a bonfire of those,” Clint said. “What do you think.”

Tony was up by Steve’s side now. Steve tugged his arm and Tony found himself sitting on the couch practically in the captain’s lap. He tried to shift out of it, only to have Steve’s arm tighten on him. Shrugging, Tony looked at Hawkeye. “Why not?”

“We’ve got about an even split here of those who think it’s Thor versus Steve,” Bruce explained.

“Though most who suspect your date to be Thor questioned your sanity,” Clint said.

“And the ones who said it was me questioned mine,” Steve grinned at Tony.

Tony looked around at the smiling faces. “Did you guys all know already?”

Collective nods. “It’s not like you were being subtle about it,” Natasha muttered, sharpening of her knives almost absentmindedly.

“Oh,” Tony leaned back, shoulder blades nested comfortably under Steve’s arm. Steve tugged him just a bit closer and Tony went. “How about that bonfire then?”

O~o~O

The surge of energy swung out like a tidal wave, breaking all the glass in the radius of its blast. Tony kicked his jets in and flew above it, surveying the destruction.

“There seems to be a fluctuation in energy output on the creatures left frontal appendage, sir,” JARVIS said. He brought up the schematics onto Tony’s screen, focusing on the bend in the tentacle-like arm.

“Fabulous, thanks,” Tony told his AI. “Patch me through to the team.”

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS acknowledge and did as asked.

Tony cleared his throat, diving down to dodge another tentacle-shot energy blast sent at him. “Okay Avengers, looks as though we’ve got a power point in the leg thing that’s planted into the concrete. If we can take out the knee of it, we might shut down the whole thing.”

“My arrows have been incinerating,” Hawkeye complained. “Widow?”

“ _Nyet_ ,” she murmured. “I cannot get close enough.”

“Mjolnir will not miss,” Thor declared loudly, making Tony wince. He rushed forward jumping two arms before another wacked him back.

Thor went flying into the nearest building, shattering through the main column. With a curse, Tony went to go get him, only to find his armor suddenly spinning out of control, an electrical zap frying his systems for a brief, terrifying moment.

“Rebooted,” JARVIS told him and Tony kicked the jets in feet from the ground.

“You okay?” Steve asked worriedly.

Tony shook himself inside the suit. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Steve nodded. “I’ve got an idea.”

Tony turned to his left just in time to see Steve jumping off the roof. “Ah, fuck,” he said, boosting his jets to get to the captain. He caught Steve just in time to dodge the massive tentacle arm that swung around to catch them.

“Motherfu- will this thing not just give up?” Clint asked into the comm as he sent a flaming arrow towards its center mass.

“What’s the plan, Cap?” Tony asked.

“Wait for it,” Steve said. He shifted so that his feet were resting on Tony’s right boot, one arm around Tony’s shoulder and the other holding his shield steady.

“HULK SMASH!”

Bruce, fully Hulked-out and 100% raged, whipped himself up one of the arms. The creature made a screech, shattering more class and pinging Tony’s armor. Thor appeared from the skyscraper he’d fallen into and jumped back down into the fray just as Hawkeye and Black Widow unleashed a flurry of weapons.

Steve didn’t even have to give a symbol as Tony clicked off his jets and dropped them fifty feet towards the frontal arm. He let go of the captain and shot towards the squishy underbelly as Steve’s shield lodged itself into the creature’s knee.

The tentacle monster-thing spasmed. Tony grabbed Steve’s outstretched hand as waves of shocks sparked out of it like dust on a baseball field, the diamond convulsing into a gooey amoeba and then melting into a puddle of electrical slime.

Tony wrinkled his nose, glad that the suit filtered the air coming in. By the way Steve was holding his face away, he could only guess how bad it smelled.

“Everyone okay?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” Clint replied just as Natasha also gave her acknowledgments.

“I have got our green friend,” Thor said boisterously. “A fabulous match of power, my friends!”

“All good here,” Tony said. Steve turned to look at him grinning. Tony let the faceplate collapse, lowering them both to a roof far enough away that they didn’t have to worry about aftershocks.

As soon they were on stable footing, Steve grabbed the back of Tony’s neck and drew him in for a long kiss. And, Tony reflected, there was no thought to it, no worries about what to say in the morning, or how to let him down gently.

Being with Steve was, Tony realized, wonderfully  _easy_.

O~o~O

Tony pressed closer into Steve’s hard chest. Steve’s mouth was warm on his own, his hand a constant pressure running along Tony’s back. Tony nipped at his bottom lips and then smirked as Steve made a low noise and pressed him closer.

Closing his eyes against the sensation of Steve’s body holding him up against the wall by his front door, Tony spread his legs. Steve fell into them like clockwork, his other hand squeezing at Tony’s hipbone.

“Steve,” Tony murmured, head banging back at the pressure the move put on his cock. Steve gave feather light kisses to his jawline and then down his neck and Tony’s fingers tightened on Steve’s shirt.

Steve pulled back his face, one hand running up to rest at Tony’s hairline. His thumb brushed at Tony’s cheek and Tony found himself opening his eyes to stare into the azure ones in front of him.

His heartbeat quickened, his breath catching in his throat. This was dangerous, Tony thought, too dangerous. Being here, like this against the wall, just looking at each other… this wasn’t anything Tony had experience with and it frightened him.

“Tony?” Steve asked, probably noticing the expression that must have flashed over his face.

Tony licked his lips and let one of his hands drift up underneath Steve’s shirt, brushing over flexing muscles. “My bedroom’s this way,” he said, because that, at least, he knew.

Steve’s eyes shuttered for a moment and his mouth turned down into a soft frown. “I should be going,” he muttered.

“Steve…” but he was already slipping out of Tony’s grasp.

“This was great, thanks Tony,” Steve told him and leaned forward to give one more chaste kiss.

The minute Tony tried to deepen it again, to bring Steve back, Steve was gone.

Tony collapsed back on the wall as the door closed next to him. With a curse, he slid down to his ass, arms resting on his knees as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. “Stupid, stupid.”

How as he supposed to know what Steve was thinking, when he didn’t even know what  _he_ was feeling?

O~o~O

“Mr. Stark,” a soft voice whispered seconds before a decidedly female hand slipped around Tony’s arm.

Tony glanced down, smoothly transferring his champagne to his other hand. He controlled his urge to flinch back as he saw the beautiful face of a reporter. “Ms. Everhart, wasn’t it?”

Christine Everhart smiled coyly. “You remember me.” She moved closer as if just saying her name was permission to invade even more of his personal space.

To be fair, it was Tony’s usual conduct to have women of all types hanging off his arms at charity functions such as this.

Just because this was the first function he’d been to since he’d started dating Steve didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Really.

“I was wondering, Mr. Stark,” Christine said, her hand massaging the shoulder of his suit. “We never did get to finish our last discussion.”

“Oh?” Tony turned a dark eye on her. “The one where you used Justin Hammer to get me jealous, as if I would care at all who you were taking to your bed for information.”

Christine frowned. “I realize none of us were at our bests then,” she tried. “I should have known better than to intrude on your time with your secretary, but I don’t see her here-”

“Ms. Potts is a CEO for Stark Industries,” Tony snapped. “I am only able to be here because she is practically running  _my company_. And I don’t appreciate that you would insinuate that we are more than peers and close co-workers,” even if they perhaps could have been, Tony would not have Pepper’s name spoiled by his scoundrel reputation.

Christine’s hand withdrew from his shoulder as she took in his anger, but before she could say anything, Tony felt another presence slide into his space. He twisted, not in the mood for another hang on, only to see Steve.

He was dressed in a dark suit that Tony had yet to see, probably lent by Agent Coulson, but Steve looked damn good in it regardless. His hair was slicked back just slightly, enough to be formal but not so much as to be pretentious like many of the patrons at the charity function. Steve’s blue eyes slipped from Tony to rest on Christine and he gave her a bland smile.

Christine backed up as Steve stepped closer, resting a large hand in the small of Tony’s back. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, soft but not gentle.

“Christine Everhart,” the reporter said. She held out a hand, but Steve ignored it.

Tony glanced at him, never before having seen Steve give up on good manners. “Steve,” he said, giving no last name as he drew Tony just a bit closer.

Christine glanced between the two of them, all flirtatious attitude gone. “Are the rumors true? Have you truly settled, Tony Stark?”

“I wouldn’t call it settling,” Tony told her with a flash of teeth. He slipped his arm around Steve’s waist. “I hear the food table has bacon wrapped oysters.”

“My favorite,” Steve caught on quickly. “Do you suppose we should bring some for Pepper? I know she’s working late tonight.”

“She’d be delighted,” Tony said, already turning away from Christine.

Steve kept that hand on his back all the way to the food table, only dropping it to pick up a glass of water. “What are you doing here?” Tony asked when he was sure no one was listening in.

Blue eyes darkened. “Pepper might have mentioned something,” he said. “You never told me why we couldn’t get together tonight.”

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come,” Tony admitted grudgingly. He waved a hand to encompass the function. “These things are hardly a party.”

“You’re here,” Steve shrugged. “That’s all the party I need.”

Tony suspected there was a bit more to that explanation, but he let Steve stay close as he smoozed his way through CEO and rich patron alike. If Steve tended to put a hand on him when one or the other showed just a bit too much interest, well it wasn’t the first time the captain had gotten a bit possessive.

Tony had never had someone that cared for him enough to go through an entire charity function without once complaining. Even Pepper rarely joined him, preferring to let him do the sucking up as she did the more practical work of running a company.

If Tony was to speculate, the single-minded attention that Steve gave him would have been stifling. Except… it wasn’t.

And it was that, not the possessiveness, which scared him the most.

O~o~O

Captain America smiled on screen, nodding to an off-camera figure. Behind him, the corpse of a massive robotic-creature was still smoking. The camera shifted and then Iron Man was walking up next to the first Avenger. Captain America turned to his teammate, smiling turning softer.

The figure on the worn couch growled something inaudible.

The reporter came on, talking into his microphone and gesturing to the scene. In the corner of the shot, Captain America lifted his hand to brush some blood off from the now unsuited face of Tony Stark.

With another growl, the figure rewound to when Iron Man first came on the screen, pausing on Captain America’s smile.

In the figure’s hands, a smudged photo of Tony Stark and his mysterious blonde date crumpled.

O~o~O

It was Friday night, Casablanca was paused on the T.V. and Tony hummed to himself as he put the last of the plates in the sink for the maids to clean up later. His eyes caught sight of blinking lights on the microwave and he frowned, but that would have to wait because Steve was waiting for him.

Tony came back into the living room, two martinis (shaken, not stirred) in his hands. Steve wasn’t on the couch and so Tony set the drinks down, looking around in confusion.

He noticed the door to the office he never used open and he stilled, before moving with steady strides towards it.

Steve was sitting on the old leather chair, thumbing over a framed photo on the desk that would be dusty, if not for Tony’s cleaning service. Tony stopped just inside the doorway, taking in the sight. He hadn’t been in his father’s old office since right after the man died.

It still stirred up the same feelings in him. Except now, with Steve there, it stirred up more.

“Just taken to walking through closed doors, now?” Tony said, unable to stop the trace amount of displeasure in his tone.

Steve looked up, startled. “Tony,” he said, and then flushed. “I was looking for a bathroom.”

“Well this obviously isn’t one, is it?” Tony crossed his arms.

Steve didn’t respond, already back to staring at the picture. Tony stepped closer, but he knew what it was Steve was looking at. It was his father’s pride and joy, him and Captain America arm in arm.

“Fury told me that he never stopped looking,” Steve murmured. “That he kept looking until his death.”

“It was a company joke,” Tony offered, but not with kindness. “ _Where’s Howard? Oh, missing another meeting; he’s probably off in the arctic, again._ ”

“I wish I could have known the man he became,” Steve said, thumb stroking the photo, just as it would often stroke Tony’s cheek.

Tony’s chest tightened. “No, you don’t.” He closed his eyes briefly. “How much, Steve, have I been compared to my father in your eyes?”

Steve’s head whipped up, his eyes wide. “Tony-” he started to protest.

“Because I hate to tell you this, Steve, but I’m  _not him_ ,” Tony clenched his fists and then turned away, unable to have this argument in Howard’s old office. He stalked back into the living room and grabbed the martinis, taking them to the kitchen to dump down the sink.

His hands were shaking as he did and some red-tinged alcohol spilt over the edge of the counter. Tony dropped the glasses by the drain and leaned with both hands over it. He heard Steve’s telltale footsteps approaching him from behind.

“All my life people have been comparing me to him,” Tony said. “My very first major experiment, when I was ten, the teachers at my school gushed about how I was growing up to be ‘just like daddy’. When I started helping the company, at sixteen, the board members would tell me what my father would do and expect me to copy his example. My girlfriends in high school would take one look at my dad and tell me that I’d be a lucky man if I looked that good at his age.”

“Tony,” Steve said, a hand brushing his shoulder.

Tony stepped away, turning to face Steve. “Well?”

“I don’t compare you to Howard,” Steve told him, blue eyes dark in the lack of light. “Not since I met you in person, not since that first day. You’re so… you aren’t the same. I never… I never felt this way about Howard.”

Tony froze. “But you…”

“He was my friend,” Steve acknowledged. “But you’re more than that, Tony, so much more than that.”

Steve reached forward and this time Tony let himself be drawn into Steve’s chest. He rested is forehead on Steve’s shoulder and calmed his shaking muscles. “What can I do to help you?” Steve asked into his ear.

Tony’s hands clenched into Steve’s shirt and he drew back enough to look Steve in the eye. “Prove it to me.”

Steve opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Tony leaned in and kissed him harshly. “Prove it to me, Steve,” he muttered against Steve’s lips, still angry, too angry, but unable to stop himself.

There was something sad in Steve’s eyes as Tony led them both up to his bedroom, but he said nothing, only stripped off his shirt and helped Tony with his.

By the time Tony was fully naked, Steve only had on his boxers (dark blue, plain – not even silky). Tony lay back and let Steve explore, first with light touches and then soft kisses, mapping out his body with unending patience.

Tony reared up, “Steve,” he pleaded. “Come on.” Too much, the simple touches. They made him come undone more than any amount of biting or licking or fucking.

“What do you need?” Steve asked him softly.

“Top drawer,” Tony said.

Steve reached over and opened it, fishing out a small plastic bottle and a pack of condoms. “What do you-”

Tony kissed him as popped the cap of the lube with a practiced motion. He poured some on his fingers and reached down himself to finger his own hole. Steve pulled away, eyes bright as Tony’s head arched back.

After a moment, Steve’s hand joined his and then a finger slipped in next to Tony’s and Tony groaned aloud. “Okay?” Steve asked, a bit hesitant.

“Yes, perfect, keep doing that,” Tony lifted his hips. “Another one,” he demanded as he pulled his own finger out and poured some lube down onto Steve’s hand.

Steve complied, two fingers brushing gently, almost teasing in their shyness. Tony shifted so that they impaled him farther and moaned. “A little to the left,” he hissed. “God, so damn hot, Steve. You just-”

“Tony,” Steve murmured, lips touching his right hipbone as if Tony were the beautiful one.

Tony reached down and began to stroke Steve’s cock, spreading lube over it in streaks. Steve began to gasp in time with the rhythm and Tony pulled back, fumbling with a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth, nearly inhaling as Steve added a third finger in and twisted. “Fuck!”

Steve’s smile twitched, “Good?”

“So good,” Tony reassured him a bit breathlessly. His fingers tangled in the condom and Tony remembered what he was doing. He reached down and slipped it on, covering the top with more lube. Not too much though… not so much that he wouldn’t be able to feel it burning through him.

“Tony, I want…” Steve mouthed into his neck, hands withdrawing.

“Yes,  _yes_ ,” Tony told him. “Please, Steve, just-”

The head of Steve’s cock pushed in slowly, pressing like a question. Tony writhed on the bed. “Steve!” he pleaded. “Goddammit, go already.”

Steve kissed the junction of his neck and chin, “Sure?”

Tony thrust down onto Steve in answer, uttering a guttural sound as he was pushed open. Steve’s hips jerked against him and Tony’s head fell back on the pillow. “Oh, Tony,” Steve murmured. “Tony, Tony.”

“Fuck me, Steve,” Tony demanded. “Please.”

Steve kissed just below his ear and then moved to his cheekbone. As his lips finally claimed Tony’s, he set a smooth pace, rocking them both on Tony’s large bed. Tony shuddered and suddenly this wasn’t a  _fuck_  anymore.

“Steve,” Tony gasped.

Steve’s azure eyes met his own, and what was shining in them was enough to make Tony come undone.


	3. Falling

Light assaulted Tony’s closed eyelids as he slowly awoke. He shifted, feeling something hard sticking to his stomach. Opening his eyes, Tony glanced down and saw the stiff spots on the sheet that immediately brought him trying to remember who’d he’d brought over the night before. Without any prompting from his brain, his hands shifted to his left.

Hard muscles shifted under his fingertips and suddenly Tony’s memories returned. He turned to face Steve, it had to be Steve.

Steve was still asleep, his hair a delicate golden array along his head. The sunlight streaming from the window shone directly onto it, casting a halo-like glow that affronted itself in Tony’s eyes.

Tony’s hand was halfway to the single lock of hair threatening Steve’s right eyelid, before he realized what he was doing and stopped himself. With a soft breath, Tony sat up, turning his back to Steve’s sleeping figure. He closed his eyes against the brightness of the light, wondering if he should close the curtains so as not to wake Steve up.

Wake him up. Huh, that was one of that first times Tony had ever been worried about his sleeping partner. His usual method of morning interaction was to escape to his lab and either have his latest fuck leave on their own, or be thrown out by either Pepper or JARVIS.

Steve was different.

Tony rubbed his temple as his mind twisted back to how they’d even gotten here. Steve let out a soft sound and he froze, but when no movement came from that side of then bed he relaxed again.

How long had they been dating? Months now… so much longer than Tony had ever waited before for sex. And it had been damn good sex too, even thought Steve had never-

Steve had never. At all. It had been… almost too obvious to Tony’s experienced eye. He’d been hesitant, unwilling to just go for it.

Tony had forced it on him, the night before. What the hell had that been? Have sex with me or I’ll think you like my father more? That was grade school, childish.

That was years of anger and envy rearing up to show its ugly head.

Tony stood, keeping his steps light as he gathered up some clothes and headed off to the shower. Cum was still sticking to his stomach and thighs and he sighed as the hot water splashed down his back.

He didn’t have a hangover, his body was barely even sore, Steve had hardly been rough at all, and yet somehow Tony felt worse that he’d ever had waking up in bed after a good night of fucking.

He felt, dirty almost. Like he’d taken advantage of a kid. And that was just it, wasn’t it. It would have been different, if Steve had initiated it, had asked for it, but Tony had manipulated his boyfr- his lover into having sex with him before Steve was ready. That was low, that was lower than he’d ever sunk before.

And it was Steve. It wasn’t some easy whore to throw out. He’d hurt  _Steve_.

Tony turned off the shower cap and leaned against the wall, letting the drops slide off of him.

“ _I can’t do relationships,”_ he’d told Pepper early on. _“Too much opportunity for fucking things up. And not in the good way_.”

Tony laughed, harsh and dry. “Good going, Mr. Stark,” he told himself. “The most epic fucking fail yet, messing up the one good thing in your life.”

He wondered how much it would take Steve to forgive him.

O~o~O

Tony hugged his coat closer to himself, breath coming out in puffs. Winter was fast approaching and he wondered briefly how Steve would take his first winter since being unfrozen.

Scowling, Tony forced his thoughts away from the man he’d left in bed and instead continued to wander along the streets of Brooklyn.

Why he’d chosen Brooklyn of all places spoke much about his current mood. Tony sighed, giving up as his mind drifted back to Steve. He felt bile rising up. This was exactly was Fury was warning him against, tainting the purity of America’s golden boy. He wondered if there was a special circle of hell just waiting for him. Maybe he’d be rooming with Red Skull.

Tony hunkered down on himself, feeling like shit in the brightness of the morning. The neighborhood was quiet, early Sunday giving it an empty feel.

Graveled crackled behind him, but Tony didn’t turn around to face whomever was jogging along his walking path.

He barely registered the sharp pain to the back of his skull. All he knew was that harsh concrete approached his face at a rapid rate.

Tony’s last thought was of Steve still sleeping, the sun shining on his hair like a halo, before darkness overtook him.

O~o~O

Tony came to with a snap of his limbs. He struggled immediately against whatever it was that was holding his arms up over his head. Chains clacked and he opened his eyes to take in the dim sight of a… well a dungeon.

He felt what might be dried blood on the side of his face, crackling when he scrunched up his face. Tony licked his lips, finding them dry. He was hanging just slightly off the ground, enough that, if he wanted to, he could stand on the tips of his toes and give his arms a mild break, but not enough to be able to actually stand.

The room was plain, chains hanging from hooks at various points of the wall. In the corner a torture rack stood as if in a movie set. “Very middle ages,” Tony muttered, twisting his wrists to test if he could slip out. He’d never broken his own thumb before, but he thought that even if he did, the manacles would be too tight.

A single door, just at the edge of Tony’s vision, opened. Tony turned to face his captor, not even remotely surprised to see a ridiculously obvious costume that just screamed supervillain.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the figure said in an obviously male voice.

His costume was bright purple, a far more atrocious color than what Hawkeye often wore. He had gold gloves and boots, with a large gold belt that cut up the spandex suit. Over his face was a purple mask, eye slits showing dark irises.

“Who are you?” Tony asked.

“Ah, is Iron Man curious of the identity of the one who got one up on him?” the man’s voice was a bit nasally, irritating to Tony’s ears. “I am Baron Zemo!” he raised his arms with a flourish. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

“Can’t say I have, sorry,” Tony said with no apology in his tone.

Zemo (and what kind of a name was that?) walked farther into the room to come stand in front of him. He was smart, Tony noticed, at least enough to stand just outside the range of where Tony could kick. Tony didn’t try, preferring not to strain his shoulders by the move.

“What do you want?” he asked instead.

“The world,” Zemo smirked. “The recovery of the Aryan race.” He paused. “The perfect race.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I thought Nazis were dead.”

Zemo snarled. “Not so long as I live.”

Tony pressed himself back against the wall, not liking the sudden sadistic glint in those eyes. “I’m not really the usual portrait of the Aryan race,” he noted.

“No,” Zemo turned his head. “You are an… imperfect individual. Not like your teammate…”

“Thor?” Tony frowned.

“No, fool!” Zemo hissed. “Captain, Captain America, the first Avenger. Defeater of Red Skull and HYDRA. It is he that I will have to breed the perfect offspring.”

 _That is… actually kind of creepy_ , Tony thought.  _Really fucking creepy._  “I’m not Captain America.”

“No,” Zemo’s eyes closed to half mast, “but he will be here soon, won’t he, Tony Stark?”

Tony thought of Steve, still asleep in bed, or perhaps sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for him to get back from what was just supposed to be a quick jog to clear his head, to relay his guilt.

Or maybe Steve had gone home, angry, regretful. Tony wouldn’t blame him.

“He won’t come for me,” Tony said.

“How cliché,” Zemo sneered behind the mask. “Next you’ll be saying, ‘if he knows what’s good for him’.” The baron laughed as he raked his eyes appraisingly down Tony’s chained up body. “Obviously, he doesn’t.”

Tony ignored the quip because, as it was, he didn’t even have a reply. How Murphy’s Law it was for him to be captured then, that morning… when he’d already screwed everything up.

But hey, what was one more fuck up? Maybe he’d beat a record.

“How long do you think it will take, I wonder,” Zemo muttered to himself, pacing now in front of Tony. “Not too longer, you should hope. I might get bored.”

He stopped still, stepping close into Tony’s space, pressing his legs back against the wall. “You don’t want me bored,” he muttered, cloth-covered mouth rancid on Tony’s ear.

Tony forced himself to remain still, unmoving even as Zemo gave a little laugh and moved out of his space, boots clicking on the ground as he left back through the door he’d come in.

It was only after he’d gone that Tony sagged in the chain, wondering if it would be this room where he would finally die.

O~o~O

The sound of explosions work Tony. He jerked, muffling a cry in his tongue as his strained arms spasmed. He closed his eyes through the pain until it left, his shoulders going numb and leaving him in peace.

When he opened his eyes again, another explosion rocked the dungeon and dust from the ceiling rained down on his head. By the time the door opened to reveal Zemo’s stupid purple face, Tony was beginning to have fond memories of the cave. At least then he’d had company.

“See, Captain, no need to be jealous,” Zemo was saying, dragging something behind him.

Tony stiffened, no longer caring that it sent a shock of pain down his spine. Steve was stumbling, his Captain America outfit ripped and shredded as Zemo tugged him by his chained hands.

“You’ve got quite the obsession with manacles,” Tony pointed out, because if he didn’t say something he would start begging.

Steve’s head jerked up, allowing Tony to see the tight gag stretching over his mouth. Tony’s jaw snapped shut.

“What was that again?” Zemo laughed, jerking Captain America to his knees. “If he knows what’s good for him?”

“If you remember, I never said that,” Tony snarked, but it was weak as he looked at Steve’s pain-hazed azure eyes.

Zemo ignored him. “Now let’s see if the hypothesis proves true,” he muttered. With a flick of his wrist, the villain ripped of Steve’s cowl, exposing his sweat-matted hair to the harsh dungeon light.

Steve hissed around his gag, but Zemo ignored that too. Instead, he drew from his other hand a piece of paper, crinkled and torn.

Tony frowned, unsure what it was supposed to be, only Zemo was looking at it contemplatively. “I do think it does!” he cried. “Don’t you?” he turned the paper in Tony’s direction.

It was… possibly a photo, Tony thought. But by the stains and wrinkles he couldn’t even begin to make out of what.

“Tony Stark’s mysterious date,” Zemo explained, as if he knew exactly what Tony was thinking. Or perhaps just to say it. “The precious Captain America. Who would have guessed?”

“Little Billy guessed,” Tony said dryly, heart pounding wildly. Zemo was insane, like most supervillains, but it seemed as though his insanity wasn’t directed towards Tony this time.

Zemo lifted Steve’s chin, not even flinching at the glare the superhero gave him. “Tut tut, Captain,” he said. “You could do so much better you know. Nasty Tony Stark… he doesn’t deserve you.”

Steve growled inaudibly and surged upward, only to have Zemo step back onto his chain and cause him to crash to his floor. “Good pets don’t bite their masters,” the baron said, sounding so comically disappointed that, were Steve not groaning on the floor, Tony would laugh.

There was a click and Tony bit his tongue as Zemo attached Steve’s chains to a hook on the other side of the wall, far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to touch each other, but close enough to see.

Well, he’d asked for company, hadn’t he?

Zemo’s purple-covered face turned towards him. “Nasty Tony Stark,” he repeated as if to himself. “You don’t really want this nasty man, do you, Captain?”

Steve shifted, glaring hard at Zemo. Zemo scowled. “No, I don’t think you do.”

“Hey now!” Tony protested as Zemo turned on his heels and stalked over. “What are you-”

Zemo’s gloved hand rested on his arc reactor. Tony’s heart skipped a beat as he paled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve straining against his chains, but they must have been more than steel because they didn’t budge.

“Who does want you, Tony Stark?” Zemo said right in his face. “As Iron Man you’ll never have near the level of power of Captain America. As Tony, you’ll always be just Howard Stark’s little clone.”

Tony let himself focus completely on Steve, unable to stop the tremors wracking through him. Steve was screaming something behind the gag, but Tony couldn’t make out the words.

The click sounded like a door closing and then Tony felt that awful sensation, the feeling he would never be used to, of his energy source being pulled out.

Tony’s back arched up and then he collapsed back against the wall. His world flickered and when it came back, Zemo was standing by Steve, Steve’s gag in hand. “-do you think?”

A boom sounded and Tony’s vision darkened again. Steve’s voice washed over him, a soothing wave as the hurricane wrecked his body. His arms were flailing in their chains as his body seizure, rubbing against hard concrete.

There was another explosion and Tony wanted to groan. What now, he thought, but when he opened his mouth to say it nothing came out.

“No, no!” Steve was begging. “Put it back, please just put it back.”

“St-ste,” Tony croaked, each breath harder and harder.

Darkness came like the lights turning out.

O~o~O

Tony heard coughing. A part of him realized it was his own, before another round overtook him.

“Goddammit!” Fury was yelling distantly. “I told you to wait, Captain. When I give you an fucking order I expect you to obey it!”

“He took out Tony’s reactor,” Steve was saying back, voice infinitely small.

Tony twitched, hand jerking up to feel his own chest. He heard Hawkeye say, “Stark?”

Then hands were on him, helping him sit up, propping him to sit curled in strong arms. Tony blinked his eyes, trying to do away with the spots behind them. “Tony, Tony are you awake?” Steve asked, right in his ear.

Tony turned his head and tried to make out the blurred figure next to him. After a moment his vision cleared and Steve’s face was  _right there_. “Steve,” he breathed out in relief. “What-”

“Cap was very insistent upon rescuing you immediately,” Natasha said, arms crossed. Clint stood next to her, an arrow still notched in his bow.

Tony moved his eyes away from them, taking in Thor who was clapping on the back a SHIELD agent dragging away a struggling dark purple form. Fury was standing just behind Steve, glowering at all of them.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Steve told him. “I thought… I thought you’d-”

Tony’s attention immediately snapped back to him and stayed there. He took in the scratches that were already healing and the shadows in those blue eyes. “Hey, I’m okay… I’m fine, yeah?” Except, well he’d probably need to go see someone about his heart. The last time his arc reactor had been taken out he’d been weak for days, and that had only been for a couple minutes… but they could deal with that later.

He’d almost died. He’d almost lost Steve forever and the last time he’d seen him… “I’m sorry, Steve,” Tony murmured, the others in the room just fading away. “For… I didn’t mean to make you. It’s was wrong of me, last night.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh, Tony, no. God no. I  _don’t care_ , believe me, just,” he paused. “I woke up this morning and you weren’t there and I thought that you didn’t believe me, about your father, but Tony, I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone-”

Tony reached up, arms shaking from just that, and pulled Steve’s face down for a kiss. Steve pressed into him, pouring his fear into that embrace. Tony felt breathless as he was finally released and he knew he was flushed. “I love you too,” Tony said, because it was true, he’d fallen and fallen hard and he couldn’t even bring himself to mind.

Later, Natasha and Clint would smirk at him and Bruce would blush in embarrassment and Thor would lift him into a large hug and maybe even Fury’s glare would be softer (though that might just be Tony’s delusion), but at that moment all that mattered was Steve’s brilliant smile and the  _love_  shining in his eyes.

O~o~O

Tony clambered downstairs, his limp barely visible. Pepper looked up from her vigil on his dining room table, papers strewn about as she managed Stark Industries with an expert hand.

“Should you be up?” she asked.

“Good morning to you too, Ms. Potts,” Tony drawled.

“Going on a date?” Pepper asked.

Tony almost denied, but then he shrugged and nodded. “Steve’s got a picnic set up in Prospect Park.” He wrinkled his nose, unsure about eating out in the semi-tamed wilderness, but he’d learned that for Steve he’d suffer through quite a lot.

And besides, Prospect Park meant something to Steve. It was the park he’d grown up in, played in as a kid, and one of the few places that hadn’t changed in seventy years. If he wanted to show Tony around a place he  _knew_ , then Tony would let him.

“I’m happy for you,” Pepper said suddenly, standing up to come near him.

Tony looked at her, noticing the makeup covered bags under her eyes, only visible in close contact and by knowing where to look. “Pepper,” he told her softly. “Did I ever apologize for…”  _For the way I treated your, for where you life is heading, for everything you’ve ever had to do to babysit me?_

By the light in Pepper’s green eyes, she knew exactly what he couldn’t say. “No,” she said, mouth quivering. “But that’s okay.”

“It will be,” Tony promised her.

Pepper nodded and then visibly bolstered herself. “You should go, don’t want to be late.”

Tony nodded, about to step around her when she held out a hand to touch him gently. With a soft smile, Pepper leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Throat dry, Tony smoothed out his dark green sweater, almost self-conscious about the bandaged tape on his forehead.

“Go,” Pepper told him, already straightening away.

Tony went, because there was nothing else he could do or say to her and they both knew it.

O~o~O

Tony groaned, setting down the last bite of pie without eating it. “You brought too much food,” he complained.

Steve laughed, taking the last bite of pie off Tony’s fork and plopping it in his mouth. Tony’s eyes tracked his tongue as Steve licked the sweetness of his fingers. “That was mine.”

“You weren’t eating it,” Steve told him.

Tony smiled. “True,” he shrugged. Steve smiled at him and then turned away, looking out across the park. It was dusk, the sun setting softly across the tree-line horizon.

“Do you ever wonder,” Tony asked softly, “what your life would have been like, had you not…”

“Frozen?” Steve asked. He raised his chin, blue eyes contemplative. “I did, at the beginning.”

“Now?” Tony prodded, moving just a bit closer.

Steve reached forward and snagged him by the waist, pulling him to sit between his spread legs. “Now I have you,” he said simply.

“That wasn’t actually meant for me to get complimented,” Tony noted as he leaned his stiff shoulder into Steve’s arm. His head rested against Steve’s neck, giving them both a perfect view of the sunset.

“Too bad,” Steve whispered into his ear. He kissed Tony’s messy hair.

Tony wrinkled his nose, watching as the sky turned pink and orange. “This feels like the end of a chick-flick,” he complained.

“Yeah, Tony,” Steve agreed easily, his arms squeezing around Tony comfortably. “But I think we all deserve our happy endings.”

Tony could here the sadness in Steve’s tone and wondered who the captain was thinking of in that moment. He shifted, turning his head to face Steve. “At least we have ours,” he murmured.

And maybe that would only last until the next big bad to attack New York, but in that moment, as Steve kissed Tony softly, well Tony felt at peace.


End file.
